Remember, Honor, and Teach
by draggon-flye
Summary: Gibbs and company take time to remember and honor the fallen during the holiday season.  Part of the Future Perfect universe.


**A/N: **Leigh and Katie are original characters created by Sasha1600 that I have adopted and use entirely with permission. Anyone you recognize belongs to CBS, NCIS, et. al.

Wreaths Across America and Patriot Guard Riders are real organizations and the Arlington project is real. I've never participated, and all my information comes entirely from research, but I've portrayed it as accurately as I could manage. Any remaining errors are mine.

* * *

Tony looked up, surprised, as his instant messaging program gave a short ping and a message window popped up. It was from Abby, and it contained a webpage address and a link to a YouTube™ video. He clicked on it absently, mildly curious, assuming that it must be related to his current case. To his surprise, it wasn't anything related to his case at all, but rather a news video about a "Wreaths Across America" wreath laying ceremony that was scheduled to take place at Arlington National Cemetery a few days later on Saturday.

'What's this about?' he sent back. He didn't mean to be disrespectful, but memorial ceremonies were part and parcel of living in DC. He wasn't quite sure what made this one worth interrupting his case about.

'I showed this to Gibbs,' Abby replied a few seconds later. 'I think he's planning on going and volunteering, and I think we should go with him.'

Tony wasn't at all surprised Gibbs was planning on taking part. He often did such things. As far as Gibbs was concerned, he was still just as much a Marine as he was when he'd first earned the title decades earlier, and anyone who knew him knew that. Every one of them in the hodgepodge group that considered Gibbs family had practically cut their teeth on it. Honor and respect for those who served had become second nature to even the most diehard civilians among them. Still, Gibbs was intensely private about some things, and he might not appreciate them barging in uninvited on what he might have intended to be a private time of remembrance.

Tony said as much to Abby, but she shrugged it off as though it were of no consequence.

'Of course he'd want us there,' Abby insisted, 'we're family. Now, are you in or not?'

This was his first Saturday off in nearly three weeks. He'd had plans involving pizza, beer, and a classic movie marathon. None of which mattered now, and he knew it. "You do what you have to for family," he muttered, sighing. 'Ok, ok, I'm in,' he sent back. He could practically hear Abby squealing from here.

* * *

Gibbs pocketed his keys and shouldered into his heavy jacket. The day was bitterly cold with a heavy dark sky that said the snow the weatherman was predicting would probably be here by nightfall. With that in mind, he picked up his gloves and stuffed them in the front pocket of his hooded USMC sweatshirt. He hated driving with gloves, but at least he'd have them if he needed them later. Satisfied he was prepared, he opened the door and stepped out on the front porch.

And froze in shocked silence. A line of familiar cars had pulled into his yard, and Tony, Abby, and Katie were piling out of them.

"Hi, Gibbs!" Abby called out cheerfully. "We thought you'd be going to the wreath laying today and decided we'd tag along. Tim's working, but the rest of us are here."

"So I see," Gibbs said lightly, clearly pleased. He turned to his goddaughter, now a senior at MIT, and pulled her into a hug. "When did you come in?"

"Yesterday," Katie replied, obviously delighted at having surprised him. "Mama told me what was going on, and I wanted to be here. I have to go back tomorrow for finals next week, but I'm here."

"I'm glad you are," he told her quietly, loping an arm around her shoulders.

He turned to move toward the cars, drawing Katie around with him, when another car pulled up and Katie's twin sister, Leigh, stepped out.

"Leigh!" Abby squealed, racing over and throwing her arms around her daughter. She hadn't seen Leigh since Thanksgiving and hadn't expected her home for Christmas for another week yet.

Leigh staggered under the force of her mother's over-enthusiastic hug but managed to stay on her feet. "It's only for the day," she said, when Abby finally released her. "When I got Mama's email, I got special permission to attend the ceremony. Being a First Year has its privileges, but I still have to be back by curfew." Reaching into her car, she drew out her naval-academy-issue pea coat and pulled it on over her uniform, scooping up her cover and tucking it under her arm with the ease of long practice. Moving passed Abby, she caught first Tony, then Katie, and finally Gibbs in one-armed hugs. "Now," she said, grinning, "who's riding where in this caravan?"

No one's vehicle was big enough to accommodate all of them. Abby insisted on having both her daughters with her so she, Leigh, and Katie ended up following Gibbs and Tony. Much to their surprise, rather than the small, somber ceremony they had expected, Arlington National Cemetery was awash with people and activity. A huge semi-truck emblazoned with an American flag was flanked by dozens of motorcycles, many bearing American flags of their own along with flags representing every possible branch of service and the yellow banners of the Patriot Guard Riders. Men stood in the back of the truck passing cartons of wreaths down to other people who carried them over to a line of folding tables where other volunteers were distributing them to a line of waiting helpers who scattered in all directions to place the wreaths reverently against grave stones. The contrast of the vivid greenery tied with bright red bows against the stark white headstones was at once breathtaking and humbling. Arlington was a haunting place, and though Gibbs had been here many times, for both funerals and cases, it never failed to affect him. He could already tell today would be no exception.

They joined the queue for wreath distribution, and Abby immediately struck up a conversation with the man in front of her, a big biker wearing a vivid orange knitted hat with the eagle, globe, and anchor tattooed on his neck at the base of his skull and a fluorescent yellow Patriot Guard Rider band on his sleeve. After a few minutes of conversation about tattoos, Abby asked him about the band. He explained that the group was a national organization of motorcycle riders whose mission was to attend the funerals of fallen soldiers both as a show of respect and to shield the family from any protesters. Every year, a group also attended the wreath project, and various chapters escorted the wreath trucks on every leg of the journey, all the way from Maine, dropping off and picking up and various points like relay runners.

"That is so cool!" Abby squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet like an over-excited child, despite teetering precariously on platform boots.

Behind Gibbs, Leigh, who like her mother never met a stranger, had struck up a conversation with a group of grade-school kids, all of whom were wearing red hats with the name of their elementary school embroidered on the front and who were eyeing her uniform with a mix of awe and fascination. They told her they were from an elementary school in Maine near the hometown of the wreath company owner who had founded the wreath project. They had spent the past semester researching and learning about a veteran who was buried here, and each of them had come to place a wreath on the grave of 'their' veteran.

"Wow!" Leigh breathed, seriously impressed. She nudged Katie, who was beside her. "Why didn't we ever do anything cool like that?"

Katie shrugged. "Because we went to the lamest, most old-fashioned school on the planet," she suggested.

"I heard that, Caitlyn," Abby piped up from up ahead, "and you went to a good school."

Leigh and Katie shared a look, rolling their eyes. The kids behind them exploded with laughter, thoroughly amused both at hearing grown-ups scolded like children and at seeing them react in such a childlike manner.

Gibbs shot them a look over his shoulder as they came up for their turn at the table and all frivolity disappeared in an instant. One by one, they were each given an evergreen wreath and instructions on the section of the cemetery where they should be placed. Without a word, the five of them moved off in the direction they were pointed, unconsciously walking side-by-side in the manner of cadets conducting a grid search at a crime scene.

They found the appropriate spot, and for a moment, all five of them stood silent. Abby moved first, lips moving silently over a long-forgotten prayer from her childhood as she knelt to place the wreath gently against the stone. When she stood, there were tears streaming down her face. Tony and Katie followed. For once, there wasn't a trace of humor in Tony's face. He murmured a quiet thank you and stepped back, reaching out to hug Katie, who was wiping away tears. Leigh and Gibbs moved almost as one. Each placed their wreath quietly then took a big step back, snapped to attention, and offered a crisp salute to the brother-in-arms who lay beneath the stone.

A moment later, Katie nudged Leigh and nodded toward a red-hat kid holding a wreath who was watching them intently. Leigh smiled and stepped over to the child, leaning down to have a quiet word then patiently teaching him a proper salute, much as Gibbs had taught her as a small child.

Remember, honor, and teach. That was the motto of the Wreaths Across America organization. As Gibbs looked around at the stark white headstones dotted with festive greenery and the myriad of people who knelt in prayer or stood to salute, including his goddaughter and a small boy from Maine, it was obvious that there was a good deal of all three going on here today.


End file.
